England's Waxing Days
by Kitty29
Summary: England goes to get his eyebrows waxed but unfortunately for him he is met with more then a few distractions. Sometimes it seems like the whole world is against him. Literally.


**Why hello there you sexy people! Kitty29 here with my first one-shot! (I'm gonna excited) and although I love Canada this one is focused on England.**

**Ok first things first. I'm sorry. This is what happens when your really bored and then stare at a blank word page for about 5 minutes and then go, 'yeah what the hell'. Also there may be a few spelling and grammar mistakes. I was done editing when the computer magically decided to restart. I wasn't so sure that if the file I had saved was the grammar checked one for not. So if it says 'French' instead of 'France' you know why.**

**Warnings: The over use of the word 'bloody' and much swearing (oh goody!)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. If I did, there would be a random episode where everyone would sing the Canadian anthem.**

**Enjoy!**

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Today was going to be a good day. England thought to himself quite merrily. Yes, _England_ thought _merrily_. For England to be merry certain things, or should I say, persons needed to be at least halfway across the world from him. Or at least make him think that they were halfway across the world from him. And it so happened that today, this lovely wet July English weather day, England could finally go out and do the one thing that he has been trying to do for the last three hundred years or so. That's right.

England was going to go and get his eyebrows waxed.

So there he walked- skipped to the closest waxing place to his house, which happened to be three cites away. He probably could have been there sooner if he had driven, but it was such a lovely cloudy day that he just had to walk and enjoy it. He swore he almost actually saw the sun a couple of times.

"Oh what a lovely British day." He said happily to a random passerby with very bad teeth. England's happiness seemed to catch like a disease, since every one he passed by would erupt into song and dance and cartwheel and flip behind him to a groovy 60's tune. Now normally when this happened England would spin around and tell them all to stop being such 'bloody tossers' but he was in a _really_ good mood today. Because today was going to be a good day, today was going to be a wonderfully day, today was-

"ENGLAND!"

The said nation stopped mid step. Oh course, of bloody course. He turned and saw the blond nation that he so hated running towards him frantically. The music and dancing from behind him stopped immediately.

"Dammit America!" He screamed. "The ONE day I ask that you not bug me, the ONE bloody day!"

The American screeched to a halt in front of him with a very exhausted and hurt look on his face. England felt the hatred he had but a second ago flatter.

"I'm…_Canada_." He wheezed before collapsing onto the middle of the road. England simply stared at him two questions whizzing though his mind. Who the heck was Canada? And how the hell had he gotten himself in the middle of the road? He swore he was walking on the sidewalk but a moment ago.

The Canadian noticed the vacant stare on his face and had to resist the urge to burst into tears. Though he was way too tired to do anything or even care about how much he hated saying the next line. "America's…brother."

England's eyes widened in realization and his mouth formed a quiet 'ohh…'

There would have been an awkward silence had it not have been for the heavy panting and wheezing of the Canadian as he tried to catch his breath. In fact, the street that the two were currently on was very quiet indeed. The two nations had yet to notice that the people that were formerly dancing merrily behind England had formed a rather large circle around the nations and were watching the scene unfold quietly. That was probably also the reason why the two had not yet been hit by a car, seeing as they formed a large human road block.

When Canada seemed too have caught his breath England asked him the first thing that came into his mind, "Where's America? Weren't you and that moron supposed to spend the day together?"

Canada really did start crying. Not even a 'Hello Canada' or a 'Hey are you ok Canada? You look like your _dieing_.' Stupid America and his stupid fleshliness and abs of rock hard steel. _His whole body ached dammit._

"I can't find America." Canada stated simply. England's eyes widened. "Can't find him?! But, you were suppose to distract him today while I went and got my eyebrows do-"

"YOU THINK I DON'T FUCKING KNOW THAT EH!?" The Canadian snapped suddenly causing the Englishman to jump back in surprise. "THE ONLY TIME ANYONE TALKS TO ME IS WHEN THEY WANT SOMETHING GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!" Canada covered his face with both of his hands and chanted his Canadian policy of ass kissing in his mind. It helped to erase the thoughts of burning down England's house. "America and I were supposed to meet this morning and go Burger Hopping."

England looked at Canada in confusion. Perhaps he had misheard what the younger nation had said, seeing as his hands muffled his words. "Burger Hopping…?" He said with distaste. Anything that had to do with America and burgers was usually disgusting.

"Burger Hopping." Canada starting as he forced himself into a sitting position. "It's when you go from state to state and eat burgers. In the end you have to try and decide which state has the best burgers."

England fixed Canada with a disgusted stare. "Only your bloody bastard of a brother could think that up."

Canada decided not to tell England that it was actually his idea (though it was originally Tim Hortons Hopping). "It doesn't matter. What matters is that we were supposed to meet each other in Times Square, but he never showed up."

"Never showed up?" England repeated a little shocked. "That idiot would never pass up burgers."

Canada nodded. "I thought so too. I went and asked Obama where America was and he said he didn't know. That he _hasn't seen him all day_."

That way that Canada looked at him England knew that he wasn't catching something. He felt that the Canadian already knew where America was but just wanted him to guess at it first. This irritated England.

"If you know where he is then just spit it out."

Canada pouted and crossed him arms rather childishly. He was quite proud of his deducing skills and England would hear it whither he wanted it or not dammit.

"America loves Obama. He brings him coffee every morning. Hell they live in the same house." Canada felt a proud smile tug at his lips. "So if Obama hasn't seen America today that could only mean one thing."

He paused to let England figure it out himself but seeing the almost impossible deepening of England's frown Canada decided to answer it himself.

"It means he's out of the country."

England cussed to himself. "Shit that moron could be anywhere." There goes his quiet waxed filled evening without anyone bugging him. He could almost feel his eyebrows groan in protest. There were already so heavy…

Canada shook his head. "Not anywhere. He's in England. That's why I ran here, to warn you."

"You mean he's here? But why in bloody hell would he been he- wait. You _ran_ here? From _Canada_?"

Canada shook his head. "No, from Washington. I was going to get my car but it was back in Ottawa and I didn't want to go though that stupid check point again."

How could Canada run to England from America? There was a whole ocean between them! And even if there wasn't, who the hell would have the stamina to-

England decided not to think about it.

"But why is America here? I told the bloody tosser not to come to England today!"

"And that's why!" Canada was on his feet now pointing at England accusingly. He vaguely recalled seeing that same pose on the cover of some video game Japan had sent to America. "You should know better then anyone that telling America not to do something will make him want to do it! You raised him! You…you!-"

Canada then continued to yell at him in French. Though he had picked up a few words of the language from France himself England could not understand a word Canada was saying. He vaguely remembered France nagging at him about Canada's French being 'Englishafied'.

It was while Canada was yelling at him in his strange half Canadian half French language that England heard a clapping noise coming from somewhere in the crowd behind him.

"Wow! Good job little bro! That was some class A detective stuff you get going on! And I thought England was the one with Sherlock Homes!"

No. It couldn't be. But he knew that voice far to well, having had to listen to it babble on and on in all the Allies meetings. He turned to face the body that the said voice belonged to and sure enough, standing there right in front of the crowd standing out like a sore thumb, was the United States of America in all his flashy bomber jacket glory. It seemed that the only thing that he did to try and disguise himself as an everyday British man was to wear a rather large black hat that you only see the soldiers outside of the Queens Mansion wear and carry around a copy of _Harry Potter and Deathly Hollows _(The American version of course). How England didn't notice him before was beyond him.

"Allllfredd~! I can't believe you ditched me to spy on England!" Canada whined not too angrily at his brother. He sounded more exasperated, like this happened on an everyday basis. England wasn't surprised. He could relate. He raised the bugger.

"Not ditch Matty! I just had the brilliant idea to start the Burger Hopping here! Why go state to state when the whole _world_ is our anchor?"- He threw he's arms up in the air to emphasize his point- "And next we can even try out the burgers in Sweden! Though I hear that they're a little on the expansive side but that should just mean that there _really_ aweso-"

"WHAT PART OF STAY OUT OF ENGLAND DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND YOU BLOODY GIT!?"

Canada jumped at England's raised voice but America frowned and made a face as if trying to remember something. "Well seeing as I'm standing here I guess I didn't get any of it." America looked up at England. "I just want to know what you doing that's so important that you didn't even want to see me, your own son." America then titled his head to the side and pouted, copying a look that a younger Canadian used to use on England so he could get any with putting gratuitous amounts of maple syrup on pretty much everything he ate.

For just a brief moment, England's expansion softened. Although he hated the bloody bastard he supposed that he deserved to know the truth. England crossed his arms over his chest. "If you must know, I was just going get my eyebrows waxed."

Silence.

"…That's all."

England thought he had won a small victory for himself when he noticed the shunned expression on America's face. This was the first time England had managed to make the American go speechless without the help of magic or Brittany the unicorn.

"…Really? You're really gonna get your eyebrows waxed?" Although America's face was covered in shock only moments before, his expression now was unreadable. Canada shuffled behind England nervously, not sure wither to go to his twins side or not. One of the fluffy brows in question rose. "Yes I was, but I'm not going to n-"

Then the strangest thing happened that made England go speechless. America walked over to the man that had raised him, lifted his right thumb up to England's face, and began to stroke England's eyebrows almost lovingly. England went perfectly stiff not knowing _what_ to do. If wasn't until Canada's pet polar bear finally caught up to his owner and whisper a 'who' that England managed to actually grasp what was happening. He slapped away America's hand.

"Are you _barking_!?"

"You had these eyebrows for as long as I can remember!"

"I'm not getting rid of them you git! I'm just waxing th-"

"But what if they mess up and rip one right off!"

"That's why I'm going to the professionals' moron!"

"Let me do it!"

England flinched. "What!? I wouldn't let you _near_ my eyebrows with any kind of wax!"

"A-HA! That's not true! Remember when there was a black out and we had nothing to light the house but my candles and you asked me to _push one closer_ to you because you were reading!?"

"Candle wax and hair removal wax are _two different things_!"

"Why do you want to get your eyebrows waxed anyways!?"

"Why in the bloody hell does it matter!? It is none of you business!"

"I'm your fucking _son_!"

Canada watched the two bicker back and forth like it was a tennis match. He had tried several times to get in the middle of them and tell them to stop, but the two ignored the timid Canadian.

"Wait you two… stop it! We're fami-ACK!"

The two nations stopped mid argument and turned towards the started Canadian.

"How rude of you, too ignore such a cute little nation like that."

England's eyebrow twitched in frustration as the newly joined Nation continued to speak, his hand still firmly on the now red Canadians rear.

"And so noisy. I could barely even hear myself think back in my lovely Paris estate."

Wait a second; they were in England and they just starting shouting at each other about a minute ago. Even if the sound of they're shouting did manage to make its way all the way to Paris, how the hell did France manage to make it here so fast? There wasn't a car or airplane in sig-

England decided not to think about it.

America turned to France and pointed an accusing finger at England. "France! Tell England to stop ruining what good memories of my childhood I have left!"

England was flabbergasted. "What the hell are you talking about!? What do _my_ eyebrows have to do with you!?"

At this point Canada would have entered the conversation with a; 'I think you're being a little selfish Alfred' But with his Papa's hand still on his arse, the only thing that came out of his mouth was a high pitched squeak.

America seemed to know exactly what this meant. "See! Matty agrees with me!"

…or maybe not.

"Don not fret my _petite_ American. Dear France has come with the answer." To Canada's relief France took the hand off of his ass and used it to reach into his shirt and pull out what looked like a beauty kit. "I will do the honors of waxing England's eyebrows."

American's face lit up. "Awesome idea Papa! That way it will be like a new Family memory! Don't you think so Matty?"

Canada signed and shrugged his shoulders. He knew that at this point it didn't even matter what he said. They were going to go though if it wither he wanted it to or not.

France pulled some wax out of his kit and approached the Englishman. "Just stay still okay _mon-_"

England punched France in the jaw. The beauty kit and half its contents rolled across the cement.

Canada didn't know why. But he was pleased.

America wasn't.

"_Don't' you dare touch me you bloody _Frenchman."

England then turned on his heel and started walking-stomping away from the scene.

Canada called out to him. "Fa-Father! Where are you going?!"

"Home!"

"But what about your eyebrows!"

England turned back around and glared at the three blonds. If looks could kill, they would all be killed, bought back to life and then killed again. With a spoon.

"Every time I go to get these _bloody eyebrows_ waxed one of you two" – he pointed at France and America- "go out and do something so _utterly_ moronic that I then have to drop _everything I'm doing_ and go out and fix your mistakes, _god fucking bloody dammit_!"

America stared at him with his mouth a-grope. "What!? When have you ever had to rescue me!?" America was the hero dammit! It was he who did the rescuing!

"Not _you_!" He waved his hand towards Canada's general direction. He seemed to have become invisible again but England knew he was somewhere around there. "Poor Matthew! 1812! You burned down you're poor brothers capitol you twit!"

America and Canada locked eyes with each other, each silently remembering the horrible things that they did to each other in that war. It was the unspoken rule between them that that topic would never again see the light of day. They turned away from each other in shame.

"And _you_!" He all but spat at Frances direction. "Trying to force me to marry you! Allowing yourself to be captured in World War Two! Trying to steal both Matthew and Alfred any from me-"

"HEY!" Although it hurt to talk because of the now bruised jaw that England generously gave him, he still felt the need to argue that point. "As I recall, it was _you_ who took them from _me_ in the first place!"

"Well maybe if you stopped staring at _women's arses_ you would have noticed they were gone!"

"At least I wasn't a _good_ _for nothing_ pirate!"

"_Bloody Pervert_!"

"_Thick-headed swine_!"

The North American twins wanted to be anywhere but here. They had both heard this agreement at least a dozen times, and even more when they were younger. Usually when they started this argument the twins would go back to they're room and go something loudly like put on music or play a especially noisy game (They had once tried just talking to each other really loudly but after about 20 minutes Canada nearly lost his voice) to try and drown out the noise.

But unfortunately, they weren't kids anymore; they didn't share a room or even a house for that matter. There were no loud objects to drown out the yelling and there were hundreds of miles away from any sort of safe heaven that they knew of. And now the air between them was awkward thanks to a certain Englishman who brought back a certain war that had started almost 200 years ago. So starting up conversation was also out of the question.

In layman's terms they were fucked.

Canada signed and scooped up Kumajiro (who still didn't know who he was) before beginning his long walk back up to Canada. If he was lucky, there would still be a Timies open when he got back. Hell there was always a Tim Hortons open somewhere. He would even weather Quebec's love for throwing things at him at this point to get a double double dammit!

He then felt a small tap on his shoulder. He stopped walking and turned to see his brother still looking as awkward as Canada felt. For a moment they just stared at each other, or rather Canada looked at his brother expectedly while America seemed to find the road work pretty interesting. Another moment passed before America spoke. "Hey Mattie… wanna go get a burger?" He finally looked up at Canada as he said this and flashed him an awkward version of his trademark smile. Canada was a little shunned at his brother's invitation. He thought that-like him- America would go back home and –like him- wallow in his own self pity while wolfing down burgers-like him(expect for him it would be doughnuts, or if Timies was closed by then pancakes).

Instead Canada shifted Kumajiro so that he would hold him with one arm and flashed America his own shy little smile in return. "Okay. Let's go, Al" Canada then slipped his free hand into America's and together the two pushed past the crowd and went to find the nearest MacDonald's.

"Maybe you should take off that hat. I don't think you would fit though the door."

…or Denny's.

"I see you noticed my hat! I snatched it off a guard!"

"Alfred!"

"What? I needed to blend in!"

…or anything that sold a burger really.

Back to the bickering couple.

"_You bloody French bastard_!"

"_You Evil vil_-" France was the first one to notice the disappearance of the two blonds. It was then that he realized that he was having _that _argument with England again. In the middle of a random street no less. Not very classy. He also realized that they haven't had _that_ argument since the two of them split up. This would also mean that it would not end in make-up sex. Damn.

"The kids are gone."

Arthur broke off his glaring with Francis for just a moment to glance at his surroundings and realize that, yes; the North American twins whom he had raised were nowhere to be found. He also noticed that the crowd around the nations looked thinner then it had before. England fished his cell phone out of his pocket and checked the time.

It was 5: 37 PM. Today was a Saturday.

The Waxing place closed at 6.

He was still two cities away from it.

He didn't have his car.

Why the hell didn't he have his car? Oh right, he thought he would walk because it was since a nice day outside. He looked up at the sky. It was still as cloudy as it had been in the morning though the drizzling had stopped. England stared at the thick clouds. Why the hell did he think that _this_ was a nice day?

But that didn't matter now. What mattered was that he wouldn't make it to the waxing place on time. He would have to get his eyebrows waxed another day. England turned to start the walk home. He would have to try again on Monday. The place was closed on Sundays.

"Hey! Your just gonna leave me here! So cruel..." France swooped up his beauty kit and caught up with England. He matched his pace, one hand over his slightly swollen jaw.

"Go away you wankger."

"A real gentleman would treat my wounds." France half taunted half whined. England turned on France a scowl on his face. "Just go back to your house and treat it yourself you coward. Seeing by how fast to ran here to grope your own son's ass it should take less time to crawl back to your house then if would mine!"

The Frenchman stared at England in wonder. "_Mon cher_, the wonderfully city of Paris is a much further walk then London is." He spoke slowly as if he was talking to a crazy person.

England turned to France and raised one of his thick eyebrows. "Then how in the bloody hell did you get here so fast?"

France opened his mouth as if he was going to answer the simplest question in the world. Though when he realized that he himself did not have the answer he closed it. The two walked in silence as they each thought about the large hole in Frances story.

In the end they both decided not to think about it.

"Arthur, if you would like to get waxed today I know a lovely place in Pari-"

"I don't want to get my eyebrows waxed anymore you dense nitwit!" England snapped. "I just want to go back home and forget about this whole mess!" In his state of unhappiness England shoved two nearby groovy dancers into a fruit stand. They had it coming.

France seemed disturbed by England's show of violence towards his own people. "There is no mean to be so-"

England turned and whacked France over the head with a watermelon that was on sale at the fruit stand for 4 pounds. He then left the unconscious nation on the side of the road and stormed back to his house. That wasn't before he called France a taxi though. He wasn't _that_ mean.

The next Monday came quite quickly and England decided that this time he would drive. Only, of course, to get stuck in slow moving traffic. For a second he thought that the very gods themselves were trying to prevent England from getting his eyebrows waxed. Though he quickly dismissed the idea. Then his phone rang. He picked it up and looked at the caller ID. It was America. Bloody America. He had half a mind to ignore the call. But what if he was actually in danger? What if one of the other nations decided to declare war with him? It wasn't very plausible but hell it could happen.

England signed heavily before picking up the phone. "What do you want America?"

"…England?" America said a little sheepishly. "I got stuck in the model airplane again."

England starting banging his head on the steering wheel.

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**_Fin(land)_**

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**Woo hoo! First one shot over! Please reviewed if you liked it, and please review if you hated it, I thoroughly enjoy reading both kinds of reviews.**

**Now some notes to help you understand the story a little more!**

**Notes:**

**-In the War of 1812 America burned down York, which at the time was Canada's capitol. Canada returned the favor by burning down the White House. He's become a bit of a pyro every since. (referring to when Canada said he had to resist the urge to burn down England's house.)**

**-Burger Hopping and Tim Hortons Hopping was something made up on the spot, though it seems like fun. I wanna go.**

**-The stupid check point thing, now when going to Canada from America or to America from Canada you have to show your passport at the border. They put this rule in effect not to long ago, a couple of months ago I think. I think that this is a stupid idea. What are we terrorists? I don't even have a passport, dammit!**

**-Quebec French and actually French are different. I heard stories about people who move to Canada from France and get jobs as like a telemarketer or something. And they don't understand half the things that are coming out the Quebec people's mouth. This is because Quebec French is kind of like a weird mix between English and French and so some of the words are different.**

**We fail pretty hard.**

**-Its true there is an American Version of Harry Potter. It seemed that a lot of people in America didn't understand some of the British slang, and were way too thick headed to figure it out. So instead the made an America version. (They have an American version of the Harry Potter Movies as well. The Harry Potter actors always have to do a scene twice, one normally, and one in 'American'. I don't think it's every scene but it's probably enough to start getting annoying.)**

**-I was reading the 2002 Genius Book of World Records and found out that the Big Mac's in Sweden were the most expansive in the world. They were like, $3.75 or something and America's id only $1.25 (or something). I don't know if this is true anymore but I just wanted to put that in there.**

**If I messed up on any historical facts please tell me. Review!**


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